Ammunition
by dismaynight
Summary: Heaven forbid they have to spend this life alone. / ItachixOC songfic


Ammunition

_--Heaven Forbid--_

She takes hold of his hand.

He takes hold of hers.

She is happy.

He is happy.

They are both seven years old, and inseparable, and their eyes are wide with every piece of knowledge they acquire. Their hands are joined out of sight, a sign of never letting go, while the teacher drones on about the wars between the nations. Everyone around them listens warily, wearily, a tired and exasperated look on their faces. But they, they who are eager to become the best they can, listen with open ears, open minds, open eyes. While everyone is tired of wars and history and rules, rules, rules, the two of them love it.

It's so, so fascinating, this history of bickering between Leaf and Sand. It's so, so wonderful, this history of isolation in Mist. It's so, so magnificent, this rule of "Never let emotions get in the way of a mission." Their minds absorb all of it, memorizing each name, each date, each cause and effect, with such ease.

Others are secretly jealous of the youngest in the group: a black-haired boy, a brown-haired girl.

They are prodigies at home; they learn so fast.

Too fast.

Time creeps, minds expand.

_Blame it on what you've been through  
Blame it on what you're into _

He takes hold of her hand.

She takes hold of his.

They are happy-like.

They are both nine years old, and inseparable, and their muscles strengthen with every after-school training they do together. Their hands are joined behind their backs, a sign of steel friendship, while they constantly rotate and take turns with throwing multiple kunai at the very center of each target. The rotation is quickening, though slightly, with every throw of the knife, their expressions determined and anxious. She is the only one he will train with, and he is the only one she will show her true skills to. No one trains as much as they, but no one advances as quick as they, either.

It feels so, so good, these practices with each other, and they are better each time. Once, they leave their secluded training ground with bruises and swells, having both tried out new taijutsus they created from mixing others' techniques. Once, they leave the tree-surrounded area with cuts and scratches, having practiced new complex moves with kunai, shuriken, needles, and other tools. Once, they nearly crawl upon leaving their haven from the world's pressure, having found their kekkei genkais.

Others are plainly jealous of the successful ninjas, the youngest chuunin of the year; a black-eyed boy, a green-eyed girl.

They are idols among siblings; they stand so tall.

Too tall.

Time creeps, bodies grow.

_Blame it on your religions  
Blame it on politicians _

She takes hold of his hand.

He takes hold of hers.

They are fine.

They are both eleven years old, and inseparable, and their chakra builds a little with every complex jutsu they perform at their training time. Their hands are locked in plain sight, completing the other's hand sign that allows them to control chakra flow, a sign of extreme toughness through whatever tries to break them, while they concentrate on their kekkei genkais. Hers is internal meddling, his is jutsu imitation, both through the eyes, and they are becoming deadly bloodline traits. They really do only need one hand, but the warmth of the other keeps calm focus amongst them, letting them temporarily forget about things, like his little brother, always feeling the need to tag along, but they can't let him. It would break the spell.

It is really too, too much of an adrenaline rush that pushes them to carry on with their jutsus, and their bodies are ripping and growing with each release of the bloodline limit, and it's pushing them farther with each session. Once, he went too fast for her and copied her movements before she even did them, and, with a strange sort of deja vu, she is distracted and is pierced with three kunai. He rushes to help but she is already healed, and he smiles. Once, she caught him off guard and tapped his heart, making him unconscious as she jumps away. She rushes to help, but he is already conscious again, and she smiles.

Others are jealous, and they grow gradually tired of how far more ahead they are than them, jounin -- already? -- at their ages; a pale-like boy, an almost tan girl.

They are wizened among friends; they learn so easily.

Too easily.

Time creeps, chakra builds.

_We've been blowing up--we're the issue, it's our condition  
We've been blowing up--we're the issue, a detonation  
We've been blowing up--we're the issue, we're ammunition_

_We're ammunition, we're ammunition  
We are the fuse and ammunition_

They take hold of each other's hand.

She slips on blood-slick skin.

They are almost okay.

They are both thirteen, and separated, and their emotions run high a little more with each day that they are apart. Their hands are at their sides, empty, and both feel something, _something_ missing, a sign of tearing, while they walk to different places. She travels to the Hokage's office for another ANBU assignment, he travels away from Konoha, both reminiscing of recent events, and they are calming down, so, so gradually. They both knew it must be done, for how else will they know how strong they are? It hurts a little, though. It will always hurt a little.

It was really, really necessary, what he did to his clan, what she did to half of hers. They have a plan, and it is all going well. It is not done yet, though, and won't be for a long, long time. Once, they almost turn around, but don't. Once, they almost let it slip, but control their mouths. His brother runs to her for solace, and she listens to him never speak of it, but she knows that he is slowly heeding his older brother, hatred growing. The elder brother thinks of her, but never lets it show.

Others are sympathetic, but they don't have time for them, being an ANBU co-captain and Missing Nin; a far-mellowed boy, a breaking-but-mature girl.

They are pitied among strangers; they fell so far, yet rose so high.

Too far.

Too high.

Time creeps, emotions fly.

_I have no generation, show me my motivation  
One world, one desperation, one hope and one salvation._

She grasps air, brings it to her heart.

He grasps air, brings it to his eyes.

They are cooled.

They are both fifteen, and separated, and their minds wander slightly closer to the other with each week. Their hands are fumbling with nothing, sad, lonely, and both are feeling abandoned by nothing and everything, a sign of longing, while they train with new partners. She has taken a new name, new height, acting to be a ten-year-old, and is with a class of ten-year-olds. She makes friends with the teachers, with a blonde boy, and accidentally with the brother of the one who has left. He has joined an organization, as planned, and is a teammate to a shark-man. He doesn't change at all -- simply acts like he did with others. Their plan is smoothly running. It has been since the beginning.

It is so, so hard for them to think of the other, but they don't -- _can't_ -- let it interfere with anything. They have trained themselves perfectly for that kind of thing. Although, their minds are their own, and while they dream of the past at night, they think of the present at daytime. Once, she almost cries at his brother's eyes, and is unable to look into them for a week. Once, he threw a set of kunai at a woman for a mission, and can't help but remember flawless training. They become accustomed to this kind of thing, but no one notices the high hills that they travel against to do it.

Others are learning about them, but disregard their presence, not knowing the ex-ANBU captain, the ex-ANBU co-captain; an impassive boy, a quiet girl.

They are amazing, say partners; they keep so well.

Too well.

Time creeps, heads wander.

_Look what a mess we've made of love  
Look what a mess we've made, we've got ourselves to blame  
Look what a bomb we've made of love_

She reaches out and feels nothing.

He reaches out and finds it useless.

They are almost cold.

They are both seventeen, and closing in on each other, and their histories are lost and found again, little by little, as they travel now to the same place, his mission completed long ago, hers almost, _almost _there. Their hands are reaching out, grasping air, and then trying again. She tries to find his brother, the final part of the plan, to tell him where to go so that he can find "their teammate". He tries to lure the kyuubi away. Their endeavors fail, but they see each other again, and he beckons her with him, finally. Finally.

It felt so, so right to leave together. The Akatsuki was ready for her, Tanade Kida -- or "Tasaki Chiharu" as she had fooled everyone else into thinking --, and so was he, Uchiha Itachi. Once, they almost lock hands as well as mouths, but his partner interrupts. Once, he almost takes her with him to a place only they know of, lips locked, but duty calls and they leave with a promise. He thinks of her, and only she knows. She feels warm with him, and only he knows. No one even guesses that they are more than what they act.

Others are fearful of the two, the Missing Nins of Leaf, the best friends to ever be prodigies together; a man with a bloody-scarlet bloodline trait, a woman with a smoky grey-blue bloodline trait.

They are respected among organization members; they've gone so far for the other.

Just enough.

Time creeps --

--but inseparable they remain.

_fin_


End file.
